


The Magic of Honey

by riotgrrl



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: AU, Fluff, LaFerry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 22:28:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10054310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riotgrrl/pseuds/riotgrrl
Summary: Lafontaine and Perry meet for the first time.Just a little something to keep me writing. Hope you enjoy!





	

“Ow! Gosh darn it!” Perry flung the scalding sheet pan onto the countertop next to her, raising her arm to inspect the already visible burn mark forming on the top of her wrist.  She winced as the skin twisted with the motion, pulling tightly beneath the already forming blister.  “Dang it, dang it, dang it,” she grumbled as she crossed the small dormitory kitchen toward the sink.  She turned on the cold water, holding her arm beneath the steady stream.  Tears sprung to the corners of her eyes as she squeezed them closed.  She tried to calm herself by imagining the pain leaving her wrist and spreading throughout her body, leaving only a small amount of distributed tension instead of the stinging reality of the pain concentrated in the actual burn.

 

Distracted by her exercise in visualization, she didn’t notice the person approaching her until their hand landed on her shoulder. She tensed and her eyes flashed open, her arm flying out from under the water back to her side as she shrugged the hand off of her, twisting to meet the eyes of the person next to her, water dripping off of her fingertips onto the linoleum floor.

 

“Oh! Hey,” they spoke, concern laced in their voice, “Sorry! Didn’t mean to spook you, but, uh, you have been making this really weird whining sound, kind of like,” they gritted their teeth, opening their mouth to suck air in and out through the gaps between their teeth and cheeks, the resulting noise sounding like some kind of cross between a busted fan and a laboring animal.  “Are you okay?”

 

Perry stared back, the shock of her wounded wrist and the flippant reaction of the stranger in front of her stunning her into silence.

 

“Well?” they asked again, raising their eyebrows in insistence as their eyes dropped to Perry’s wrist. She held it out a bit farther, still mute, hoping the stranger would catch on quick enough.

 

“Oh, nice!” they boomed, grabbing hold of her arm, “it’s already blistering.”

 

Perry’s jaw fell open. _Not only can I not access the sink because you’re standing directly in front of it,_ she thought, _but now you’re insinuating that there is something_ nice _about my burned wrist?_

“Crap, you’re right.” The voice pulled her back to reality; she hadn’t realized she’d said any of that out loud, but as the person moved aside and urged her back toward the sink she couldn’t find it in herself to even feel sorry.  “I didn’t, uh, I didn’t mean nice like _nice you got hurt_ ,” they gulped.  “More like, _nice, check out how well your body is protecting you._ ”

 

“Excuse me?” Perry’s voice returned, the disbelief ringing at the implication that her body was _protecting_ her by stinging and bubbling and aching.

 

“The blistering,” they explained. “Your skin forms a blister when burned to help you; the liquid in the blister protects the skin underneath and prevents it from getting infected and helps it to heal faster.”

 

Perry was surprised by this information. As a baker – an _excellent_ baker if she were to go by the reactions of her friends to her sweet concoctions – she was no stranger to the accidental burn on occasion, but she’d never thought to thank her body for its reaction. 

 

“Well,” she quipped back, “Thank you.”

 

“Oh, you’re welcome,” the stranger began babbling. “I mean, I hardly did a thing. The water was already running, so I just wanted to get out of the way, once I got _into_ the way, you know, to –”

 

“That thank you was for my body,” Perry interrupted, “for protecting me. All _you’ve_ done is show up, get in the way, and spew facts about blisters.”

 

Perry slowly rotated her wrist back and forth under the faucet, glancing from the corner of her eye to see that, rather than look offended, the stranger who’d joined her was now staring right at her, eyebrows raised in what could have been surprise or delight with a smug smile pulling at the corners of their lips.

 

“Besides,” she continued, her voice softening of its own accord at their unexpected reaction, “I don’t even know you. I had, I mean, I _have,_ this situation perfectly under control.”

 

“I’m LaFontaine. Or, LaF is fine too, like ‘ha ha,’” they stuck their hand out before quickly withdrawing it when they noticed Perry eyeing it with disdain. “And I’ve no doubt that you have this under control,” they reasoned, “but if you want that burn to heal even faster, you have to trust me.  I can help.”

 

Perry continued to eye them suspiciously, but huffed in disgruntled agreement finally when she saw the sincere hope to help in LaFontaine’s eyes. The stinging in her wrist was throbbing, but LaFontaine had been a decent distraction so far. _What harm could it do?_

 

“Fine,” she mumbled, turning off the water and holding her arm out toward LaFontaine who was already turning to move around the kitchen, buzzing about with haphazard purpose. They opened cabinet after cabinet, shifting bottles of spices and bags of flour and sugar before reaching toward the back, their body leaning fully over the countertop of the small dorm kitchenette.

 

Perry took a moment to let her eyes drag over person before her, their back to her as they continued ransacking the cabinets for who knows what. She recognized them slightly – assuming she’d bumped into them on campus once or twice before – but didn’t know much, and was surprised therefore at their insistence on helping.  She knew she’d do the same were the circumstances reversed and she stumbled upon someone who’d hurt themselves, but she was impressed that a stranger would do the same for her.

 

“Here we go,” they said, rushing back toward Perry – who was standing stark still, her thoughts interrupted, her arm still extended toward LaF – with a bottle of honey in their hands. Perry’s eyebrows quirked in confusion, until she saw LaFontaine turn the honey bottle upside down, uncap it, and attempt to pour it onto her injured wrist.  She yanked her arm back immediately, hugging it protectively against her chest.

 

“What!” she cried out, taken aback as LaF looked at her expectantly, the bottle turned on its side but not closed. “What are you doing?!”

 

 “Amping up your skin’s protection,” they teased, taking a step closer to her.  Perry mirrored their step, taking one backward.

 

“With _that_?” she gestured toward the bottle of honey with her finger.  “You’re going to make a mess!  And then I’m going to be covered in sticky honey-gunk, stuck here cleaning up my mess _and_ yours, and in more pain thanks to your brilliant idea to –”

 

“Oh-kay!” LaF drew out the first syllable, raising their voice to cut Perry off mid-rant. They met her eyes, a smile forming at her furrowed brow.  “I thought you were going to trust me?”

 

“Yes, well, that was before I knew you were going to try to pour a _condiment_ onto my body when –”

 

“Hey,” LaF interrupted again, stepping toward Perry, this time effectively pinning her against the countertop behind her. “Trust means trust,” they corrected.  They held out their open hand, asking Perry to place hers in it.  With a bit of convincing – which included a whole lot of eyebrow wagging until earning a defeated laugh on Perry’s part – she finally lowered her arm.  LaF took it with no hesitation, holding it steady and squirting a small glob of honey onto Perry’s burn.

 

“I’ll have you know,” they started, “honey actually has some anti-inflammatory and antibacterial properties. This is going to help heal and sterilize your burn, plus it’ll take some of the pain away, _and_ it’ll hopefully prevent some of the scarring.  There are a number of studies that indicate it’s better suited for healing than the typical ointments or burn creams you’d find in a store.  I mean, there was this one time, I accidentally lit part of my shirt sleeve on fire –”

 

Perry listened as LaF continued to ramble on and on while mindlessly rubbing the honey across her wrist, their thumb careful not to pull on the blister, only to coat it. She tried to listen, but she was lost in their touch.  She’d always prided herself on being able to handle herself in the kitchen.  And, sure, she would have been able to care for herself just fine, but the longer LaFontaine spread the honey over her wound the more the pain seemed to dissipate and disappear.  She gave credit to the healing properties of the honey, refusing to acknowledge that it may very well also be due to the _other_ feelings spreading throughout her body at LaFontaine’s gentle touch.

 

“Which doesn’t explain exactly why there were so many bats in the biology lab, but at least we had honey.”

 

“Right,” Perry gulped, not having comprehended any of LaF’s longwinded story. “Thank you,” she sighed, the pain now all but gone.  “I can’t believe that this actually worked, but, still, thank you.”

 

LaF’s hand stilled, but they didn’t remove it from Perry’s arm. “You’re welcome,” they whispered, a smile lighting up their face that Perry shyly returned as their eyes drifted to their hands.

 

“Oh! Gosh, I never even introduced myself,” Perry nervously bubbled as she pulled her hand away, disappointed by the loss of contact. “I’m Perry.  Lola Perry, technically, but everyone just calls me Perry.”

 

“I know,” LaF smirked, “You live in Room 319. You haven’t declared a major but you’re leaning toward Supernatural Studies. You enjoy baking, and you’ve recently taken to learning how to pickle.”

 

Perry’s jaw dropped as LaF continued to recite seemingly random facts about her, including her favorite television shows and their favorite sweater of hers (the turtleneck covered in turtles, for reference).

 

“Are you some kind of stalker?” she cried, hoping with all her might that she was wrong.

 

“What? No!” LaF chuckled.  “Perry, you’ve attended every single floor event since orientation and you’re always the first to introduce yourself.”  Perry blushed.  “Plus, I live in Room 325 which is just down the hall, so I’ve picked up on a few other things as well.”  This time LaF was the one to blush.

 

“Oh,” Perry nodded. “I thought you looked familiar.  I just couldn’t figure out where I’d seen you before. But, I see you clearly didn’t attend the Silas Women’s Book Club I started last month, because if you _had_ then you’d know that I’ve long since given up pickling.  It, uh, it left my room a bit stinky,” she confessed.

 

LaFontaine was staring at their feet when Perry finished, uncomfortably scratching the back of their neck.

 

“No,” they replied cautiously. “I, uh, I did read the book though, but I just, um, just didn’t feel comfortable attending.”

 

“Why?” Perry nagged. “We had a very productive conversation.  You shouldn’t feel intimidated by speaking your mind in front of others, LaFontaine; we aren’t that kind of group.  The others in the group are all very open-minded about listening to others’ opinions.  You should have come.”

 

“It’s not that,” LaF mumbled, their eyes still scanning the floor.

 

“Well, then why didn’t you come?” Perry pressed on, not one to back down without an answer. “If you’d already read the book, I don’t see why you wouldn’t have wanted to attend for the discussion.”

 

“No, no - I did,” LaF stuttered.

 

They stopped speaking, unsure of how to continue. They were openly out as non-binary among their friends, classmates, and professors, but it wasn’t something that they wore on their chest; there was no bubble hanging above their head to read “This person uses they/them pronouns!” for strangers to see.  Typically the information was just shared in an introduction: “Hello, I’m LaFontaine.  I use they/them/theirs pronouns, so just please keep that in mind when you address me.  Nice to meet you,” at best, and “Actually, you can shove your _she_ back up your ass because _they_ aren’t interested,” at worst – but that was only one time and, they had to admit, that soccer player really did deserve Carmilla’s protective retort.

 

 _You can do this._ With a deep breath, LaF resumed speaking.

 

“I didn’t come to your book club because I don’t feel comfortable in spaces labeled specifically for women, because that’s not how I identify.”   Perry held their gaze, her silence only spurring LaFontaine to continue.  “I identify as non-binary, and I use they/them pronouns, so I felt kind of uncomfortable, I guess, with the idea of attending a book club for women.  And I know that it’s hard to find spaces that aren’t dominated by male voices, on this campus and everywhere else, so I didn’t want to take away from the really important point you are making with your book club.  So I just, uh, read the book and that was that.”

 

LaF refilled their lungs, wiping their sweating palms on their thighs. This wasn’t always so hard, but this was Perry. _Lola Perry_ : baker extraordinaire, sweet, smart, a leader on campus, and the only person who’d ever left LaF speechless, breathless, and their stomach a fluttering heap with just a stare or a sentence caught in passing.  LaF had been crushing on Perry since their first day on campus when they saw her moving into her room down the hall, her bright red curls pulled back into a loose bun as she passed out homemade brownies and cookies to anyone who stopped by her room; LaF had been too nervous to pick one up and introduce themself.

 

Returning their thoughts to the present, they found Perry with a furrowed brow deep in thought, her eyes understanding and inviting as they connected with LaF’s, a small frown tugging at her lips.

 

“LaFontaine.” Her voice was strong and serious.  “I owe you a real apology.”

 

LaF opened their mouth to speak, to explain away the apology, when Perry cut them off immediately.

 

“No, listen. Please. I do.” Perry could feel the vulnerability in LaFontaine as if it was a third presence with them, and she knew how important her next words would be.  “I wanted to create a space that was welcoming to those who are marginalized, but instead I did the opposite: I created a space that excluded you on the basis of your gender.  Gosh, I’m _so_ sorry, LaF.”

 

Perry was wrapped up in her thoughts, trying to find a way to make it right to the person standing next to her. They, on the other hand, were completely in awe, their jaw slightly unhinged in surprise. 

 

“We have a meeting tonight – the book club, I mean. I’m going to announce that we are changing our name, to one more inclusive of all marginalized experiences.”

 

“No, Perry, really, like I said, I get –”

 

“LaFontaine,” Perry’s voice was demanding now, cutting them off without a second thought. “The mission of this book club is to uplift unheard voices.  That doesn’t change by changing the name, but you deserve the same respect and opportunity to participate in our discussions as anyone else who has attended.  You should feel comfortable attending just as you are.  So, I’m going to suggest it today.  If you’d like to come – if you’ve read the book, I mean – then please know you have as much right to as anyone else.”

 

LaFontaine stared at Perry, quieter now, the pain in her honey-covered wrist seemingly forgotten with her new crusade. They smiled a sheepish smile that reached their ears.

 

“Great. Yeah, okay.  I’ll be there.”

 

“Great!” Perry echoed, offering a toothy grin of her own.

 

“I should, uh, I should probably get going,” LaF continued, unnerved by Perry’s thoughtful stare, the twinkling in her eye unreadable. “I’ll see you later though, I guess?”

 

LaFontaine turned on their heel to leave, when Perry reached out to grab them by the elbow.

 

“Oh, no you don’t,” she spoke, her voice lower now than before. Their eyes met again, LaF’s pupils widening as they swallowed the knot in their throat at the proximity.  “This kitchen is a disaster!”  LaF laughed – full on bent over, out-of-breath laughed - at Perry as she listed the various chores to still complete in the kitchen, which included putting away all of the spices and containers they’d pulled out to find the honey. 

 

“I did warn you, LaFontaine.” Perry’s smug smile couldn’t hide the delight in her eyes.

 

“You’re right, Per,” they agreed, happy just to have an excuse to spend more time with the woman who’d been making their chest swell and palms sweat for months. “Besides,” they teased, “someone’s got to help eat some of these cookies.”

 

“Oh! Absolutely not,” Perry swatted their hand away, “not until book club!”

 

The two danced around each other in perfect harmony as they cleared the kitchen, stealing quick glances and half smiles as their minds filled with _what if’s_ and _could be’s_ and _please feel this too’s_.


End file.
